


A Name for Blue

by VerdiWithin



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22017904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Hades is not looking forward to Spring.I wrote this as a Discord gift exchange story, for GabbleBabble.This is aTalismanstory, out of order.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 153





	A Name for Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by Red

I’ve been searching the house for fifteen minutes for my favorite fountain pen. I’ve looked in the bedroom, all through my study, in the living room, and in the kitchen. Persephone has been waiting patiently for me all this time--she must be getting annoyed by now. I give up and go look for her. 

I last saw her in the kitchen, drinking her tea, getting ready for the day, but she’s not there now. She’s not in the living room either. Great. Now I’ve lost something much more important than my pen. 

“Kore?” I call. There’s no answer.

I walk out to the hall. “Kore?” Still nothing. I’m getting concerned. We’re late for work, and that’s totally my fault, but it’s not like her to wander off. Maybe--maybe she finally decided to agree with me about taking some time off? Well, that’s an intriguing possibility.

I wander down the hall, looking into rooms, wondering if I’m going to find her somewhere, waiting for me, posed in some deliciously filmy scrap of provocative nothing. I’m about to call again when I hear her voice. She’s talking to someone in low tones, secretive. 

I wonder what’s going on. I approach the next room, which is my study, and peek around the doorframe. All of the dogs are sitting in the middle of the room, listening to Persephone, who is kneeling on the rug with them.

“Now listen, all of you. You’re going to have to be such good boys, and yes, John, good girls too! Yes you are! But all of you have to be super good and keep Hades happy, okay?” Her voice cracks and I hear her sniffle. I retreat into the hall. I can’t watch this. I shouldn’t be listening, either, but I do. I lean against the wall and Persephone’s voice floats out of the door.

“I’m relying on you,” she goes on, with a warble in her voice. “C’mere Fudge! That’s a good boy! Will you give Hades plenty of snuggles while I’m gone?” I shake my head. How can she imagine the dogs will be any replacement for her? I miss her already.

“Russell, sweet boy! You’re in charge of playtime. You know where to find your ball? Yes you do! Good boy.”

“JP, show me your trick. C’mon, roll over! Good boy!”

She goes on in a softer tone for a couple of minutes, and I can’t make out her words. I should stop this. I’m eavesdropping, and it’s rude, and more than that, it’s tearing my heart out.

“CB, come here, little guy. I know we’re not best friends. But you love Hades, and I do too, so you’re going to help take care of him for me, right? Right? That’s a good boy. Your job is to act up when Hades gets sad. Can you do that for me? Of course you can!” She’s all choked up now. My throat thickens in response to hearing her like that.

“Cerberus. Oh, Cerberus, come here.” I hear a few thumps and I know she’s petting him in that enthusiastic pummeling way he likes. “My best boy,” Persephone murmurs. “You have to protect him, okay? I know you know how--”

I have to get out of here. My eyes are hot and watery and I can’t take this any more. I run for it, and shortly find myself in the laundry room. I pick up a clean, folded towel, and hold it to my face, tears leaking out. It takes me a few minutes to get control of myself. Dammit. I was trying to be strong. Persephone is being so strong, it’s the least I can do to not get hysterical on her. 

I wipe my face and drop the towel into the dirty basket. I straighten my tie and smooth my hair, and then I notice my fountain pen on top of the dryer. I must have set it down while doing laundry last night. Idiot.

We’re now significantly late for work but I really can’t bring myself to care. I go back out to the front hall, trying to keep control of my emotions. I find Persephone there, using the sticky roller brush to remove fur from her dress. She glances up.

“You ready, Smush?”

I smile a little. I love her name for me, though I would never admit it. “Yeah. I found it in the laundry room. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“That’s okay. I don’t have anything urgent today.” She sets down the brush and picks up her coat and purse.

“You want to drive?” I ask.

“Sure.” She holds out her hand and takes the keys from me.

All the way in to the office Persephone keeps up a bright chatter, just as she has for most of the time in the few weeks since we signed the Agreement.

She’s maintained such a convincing facade that I’ve sometimes wondered. Maybe she doesn’t mind the idea of separating from me for six months. Maybe she’s looking forward to a break from me and all my nonsense.

Now I’ve finally realized it isn’t so. This is just my inferiority crap, coming back to bite me again. I thought I was past this, but I guess not. Understanding that my wife is in pain, just as much as I am, is a terrible thing. But knowing that she’s going to miss me as much as I’ll miss her is--well--how can I be happy about that? But I am. A little.

Persephone has been brilliant at keeping up a pretense of being strong and even philosophical about being away for so long, but she’s devastated too. She’s just as miserable contemplating her departure in a couple of weeks as I am. Her insistence on going to work, living our lives as usual--this is how she’s keeping the despair at bay.

I’m disgusted with myself that it’s taken me so long to understand this. How could I imagine that she was taking this in her stride? I know very well how much she loves me.

We arrive at the office and enter Tower One. Persephone is still producing a smooth flow of words, telling me about work things and news about our friends. Now that other people are around, she speaks to them as well, calling out greetings and questions to people she knows. She seems to know everyone. How is it that after only six months as Queen she knows the people around here better than I do?

She amazes me. We ride the elevator together, and I try to think of something to contribute to Persephone’s one-sided conversation, but I can’t. I just watch her, and listen to her lovely, low, husky voice.

When we arrive in our outer office, she’s  _ still _ going on, but I know my cue, and I know what I want. I slip an arm around her waist and pull her to me. “ _ Hush _ , little goddess,” I murmur, too soft for our PAs to hear. I lift her off her feet and kiss her soundly. 

When I set her back down again, she’s smiling at me in a particular way she has. Knowing. Completely seeing through me. “See you at lunch?” she says.

I nod, and turn away to go to my office, but then I jump in surprise. I look back at Persephone, who grins and waggles her eyebrows. She removes her hand from my ass and waves at me with it, then walks into her office. I watch her the whole way and just before she closes the door, she meets my eyes again for a scorching moment.

What a goddess! I shake my head in amazement. She continually surprises me. I head into my office, determined to make the best of this day, despite the rocky start. Maybe I can finally make headway in figuring out the supply chain problem.

I’m distracted on the way to my desk. It’s starting to snow outside. I remember the first time Persephone was in my office, almost exactly a year ago, looking out the window and seeing her first snowflakes. I stand at the window, lean on the cool glass, and allow myself to feel the misery I’ve been trying to stave off.

I’ve been so happy, for months on end. I finally have what I need to make my life complete. Persephone is kind, and gentle, and incredibly smart and beautiful, and she adores me. I should have expected that there would be a stumbling block. A thorn in the rose. 

It’s only six months, I try to tell myself. It’ll be gone just like that, and then she’ll be home and we’ll be happy again. What’s six months, when you’re as old as I am? Only half my life, from now on. Dammit.

I sigh and shake my head, turning away from the window. It’s time to get something done. I sit down at my desk, but my eye is caught by something new. Over in front of the big photo of Persephone, there’s a little glass vase full of-- 

Forget-me-nots. She sent me forget-me-nots. Her special flower, the one she sprouts in her hair when she’s thinking of me. All the emotions I’ve been trying to suppress all morning come rushing out. I put my face in my hands, my head on my desk, and let it all out. 

It’s some time before I can control myself again. I go and wash my face, and blow my nose several times. I can’t believe I just lost it like that.

I return to my desk, and delicately touch the little blue flowers. I wonder how Persephone managed this. I suppose she could have asked someone to deliver them for her, but that’s not like her. Usually, she likes the personal touch--showing her love by giving her time and effort.

Did she sneak out during the night to do this? Or this morning, while I was obsessed with finding my pen? I suppose she could have. I certainly wasted enough time on it, and she  _ is _ a goddess. She has her ways, and she can be sneaky when she wants to.

I find my resolve strengthening. I can’t go on like this, pretending nothing is wrong. Pretending that things are normal, that every day right now isn’t a countdown to the inevitable agony of separation. Who cares about supply chains? Who cares about profit margins, and advertising campaigns? I care about my wife. I want to be with her, and her alone.

I make a few phone calls, then I exit my office. My PA and Persephone’s are chatting across the outer office as they work at their desks in opposite corners. 

“I need you to cancel all my appointments for the rest of the week,” I announce to them. “Her Majesty’s, too.”

I open the door to Persephone’s office. She’s talking to Hecate and they both look up in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” Persephone asks. She looks concerned. 

“Yes,” I say, floundering for something to say. “Poseidon called. It turns out his beach house is free for the next week and he desperately needs someone to stay there, because, um, reasons.” Weak. My nine-year-old niece comes up with better lies than that.

Persephone blinks at me a few times, and exchanges a look with Hecate. “So… he needs a caretaker?” she asks.

“Exactly. But he needs the right kind. Someone he can depend on. Uh, someone with a lot of dogs, to, um, keep away burglars.”

“Oh, I see,” Persephone says slowly. Hecate is developing one of her trademark smirks, but she says nothing. “Maybe someone who can also take care of Amphitrite’s plants?”

“Yes!” I say. She gets it. She’s not going to shoot me down.

“Well, we’d better get going, then.” Persephone rises, collects her purse and coat, and crosses the room to take my arm.


End file.
